


Reminiscence

by KumoriNoNai



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Air Genasi, Introspection, Monks, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 17:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KumoriNoNai/pseuds/KumoriNoNai
Summary: Siliva has a moment to herself





	Reminiscence

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for the wonderful @boopthezoop

It looked like snow, except, it wasn’t. Little specks of dust stirring up with every pair of boots that stomped through the tavern, only to drift down into complete silence again a moment later. The amount of it strongly insinuating that no living soul had dared to enter the place in a while, tonight being the sole exception. But that was alright. Preferred even, in Siliva’s case.

From what she could gather, this tiny, godforsaken village had something to celebrate tonight. Music and laughter she’d almost forgotten the sound of echoed through the small, rundown space. A nice change of pace from all those days spent out in the wild actually. And if she closed her eyes, it almost sounded like home. Like the hustle and bustle of the free market, on the plaza by the fountain. Like the music of travelling bards. The sound of feet against the cobblestone street as people danced until deep in the night.

But despite the warmth of those memories, she didn’t feel the usual urge to partake in these festivities. Instead she observed, occasionally sipping from a pint that looked like it probably hadn’t been cleaned since its creation. She couldn’t even really identify what was in it. And when there was nothing left to sip, she simply ordered another. But the all too familiar alcohol buzz stayed out, leaving her more conscious of her thoughts than she wanted to be.

‘Air creature.’

The mere sound of the unintentionally vile nickname spoken in a far too pleasant voice immediately instigated an eye roll of such proportion she almost gave herself a headache. Just her luck.

The stool next to her scraped over the wooden floor, making it very clear a painfully unwelcome conversation was about to take place. So, as it was the polite thing to do, she turned to the Elven woman that had now joined her, giving her a short nod in recognition. 

‘Althaea.’

She remembered how, at the very beginning she’d actually been excited to meet her. Althaea of house Nightstar. A druid of high nobility, who she thought to be a kindred spirit in her attunement and appreciation of nature. It didn’t take her too long to figure out the woman was actually batshit crazy and needed a muzzle, and shrink, more than anything else. The contrast of the sheer elegance and beauty compared to the nonsense that came out of her mouth was ridiculous. 

‘You look terrible.’

In all honesty, if she were to look at her own reflection right now she’d probably have to agree with that. Sleepless nights of wondering when you might be captured and possibly tortured to death before even catching as much as a whiff of the people you were trying to find would do that to a person. Even so, today especially, she didn’t feel like giving her the satisfaction of being right.

‘Have you looked at yourself lately? Not really the definition of “fresh” either.’

The elf squinted her eyes in response, as if not quite understanding the meaning of her sarcastic remark. Althaea had a tendency to take things quite literally, meaning the gears in her head were undoubtedly turning like mad right now. Lately, Siliva noticed she’d started taking some pleasure in watching the arrogant woman struggle. Even if it wasn’t quite fair to make fun of someone who honestly didn’t understand.

‘I have recently bathed. You may smell to confirm.’

Siliva chuckled, averting her gaze to stare at nothing in particular once more. She wondered when she’d actually gotten used to these pointless conversations. When their daily squabbling had become her everyday life. And even more when she stopped minding things had come this far. Sometimes, just for a split second, she forgot what she’d come to do. At times this familiarity of their little band of misfits felt like things had always been this way. And like today, a harsh wave of guilt would wash over her upon realising she was actually alright with that.

But in the end, nothing lasts forever. And all that seemed so precious right now would likely just fade into another vague memory.


End file.
